


be still, my indelible friend, you are unbreaking

by wastelandyke



Category: Batman (Comics), Red Hood: Lost Days, Under the Red Hood
Genre: Angst, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Major Character Undeath, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:13:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22990780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wastelandyke/pseuds/wastelandyke
Summary: "Damian reached up to the eponymous red hood gently and whispered just as quietly as Red Hood had, "Akhy?"And Bruce knew his Arabic wasn't great but he knew he'd have to brush up on it after this because he could have sworn Damian was calling Red Hood his brother, and that couldn't be right."orWhile on patrol, Robin recognises the Red Hood. Batman is trying to understand how.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne
Comments: 39
Kudos: 1062





	be still, my indelible friend, you are unbreaking

**Author's Note:**

> okay so title is from hozier (again. i now. sorry), specifically wasteland, baby! i was just reading a tumblr post about how that one line could either mean "you're strong, you're unbreakable" or it could mean "it's alright, you're healing". i'd never thought of the second interpretation and i'm obsessed with it now. i think it fits this very well. 
> 
> i started writing this thinking ít would be a oneshot but i kinda really want jason to meet the others, and maybe show him helping Damian heal (and vice versa). so, depending on the response to this, i might continue this? idk idk.
> 
> also. my formatting was removed and i'm too lazy to put it back. so if u ever feel like something should be italicised or something. just imagine that it is :)
> 
> anyway ignore my rambling, enjoy!

It had almost been six months since Bruce first met Damian, and he still felt no closer to understanding him as he did that first night. Damian was angry and cold. He spoke rarely and with the precision of someone much older than his ten years. Bruce hated that, hated that at ten, Damian hated to be touched and would stiffen any time another person entered the room, hated the way Damian both sought out and avoided attention, hated that he only seemed to relax when he had a sword in his hand or when he was on the streets as Robin. He didn't want to make Damian do anything he didn't want to, but every time he was near him he saw how uncertain he was, and he wanted nothing more than to bundle him up in a bunch of blankets. If Bruce had anything to say about, Damian would never have to see any violence again. Bruce knew he'd seen enough of it for a lifetime.

Still, the only time Bruce had seen Damian happy, or at least, happier, was when he was Robin, and he wasn't going to take that away from him, although he was beginning to worry Damian felt he was repenting for his past with Robin. He knew Damian hated that he had to share Robin with Tim -Tim wasn't too pleased either- and Damian resented him for it. His claims that it was his "birthright" had quietened down a lot since he first arrived, but Bruce suspected that fact had more to do with their response than any change of opinion on Damian's part.

Right then, Damian was looking morosely out across the city skyline. If it was any of his other kids, he would have cracked some stupid joke that would make them roll their eyes, and make Bruce smirk slightly under the cowl. Damian wouldn't respond well to that, though. Instead, Bruce shifted his gaze out onto the city as well, opening his mouth to end patrol, when he caught a glimpse of the elusive red helmet he had been searching for for weeks.

"Stay here," he growled to Robin, before taking off after the figure.

He wasn't surprised to hear quiet footfalls behind him. He'd have to speak to Damian about that after patrol, but he didn't have time now. He kept on chasing the man, although as his route became more and more convoluted, he was starting to think he was playing into his hands.

Suddenly he stopped on top of a warehouse a few rooftops ahead. He turned to Robin who at least had the decency to look sheepish. Or perhaps more than sheepish, looking more like he was going to be punished. Bruce resisted the urge to sigh, knowing how Damian would interpret it.

"Stay behind me," he said instead, trying to keep his voice neutral. Damian did as he was told this time.

When Batman (and Robin) landed on the rooftop, the man immediately dropped into an offensive stance. Batman recognised the stance, and although it could be brushed off as a coincidence or just a similar fighting style - he'd have to see him actually fight to know for sure- his stance was undeniably similar to that of the League. It was open, goading, leaving him exposed for attack. Letting his opponent think he had the upper hand.

When he heard movement behind him, he knew Robin recognised the stance as well.

 _"Aldawriu?"_ he asked the person. _League_. He could hear the almost imperceptible tremor in Damian's voice. He hated being reminded of his past, Bruce knew, but there was something else there as well. When he stepped closer to Bruce, his heart nearly split in two. Damian was scared. Scared he was going to be sent back. If their circumstance wasn't so vulnerable, Bruce would have pulled him tight and whispered to him that he'd never let him be taken, but it was, and he couldn't.

The man tensed. He couldn't see his face, but his posture screamed surprise. He couldn't be sure with the helmet, but his gaze seemed to shift from him to Robin. He stepped in front of him slightly, but practically shoved him behind him when the man spoke.

"Dami?" The softness in his voice was undeniable. Bruce would bet the only reason they could even hear it at all was because of the voice modulation the helmet obviously provided.

As he pulled Damian behind him, he heard Damian's breath hitch. The fact that the man knew Damian's name, or nickname, practically confirmed a League connection. Damian probably hated the man calling him that, not least because he appeared to hate that nickname. Dick had once called Damian that, and Damian had screamed at him before marching straight to his room. Dick was shocked at the outburst, and honestly a little upset. Of all of them, Damian was the most mellow around Dick, on a good day, one might even call him friendly, so to see him so upset at him about something they assumed would be so minor was surprising to say the least. Needless to say, no one called him that again.

He could feel Damian try to get around him and did his best to hold him back, but his small size and agility that was part of what made him such a could fighter allowed him to slip out of Bruce's grasp. Damian approached the man slowly, as you would an injured animal. Bruce knew Damian could take care of himself (and how he hated that fact) and he also knew that hurting children didn't seem to be this guy's MO, quite the opposite in fact. It didn't stop him from worrying though.

Damian reached up to the eponymous red hood gently and whispered just as quietly as Red Hood had, _"Akhy?"_

And Bruce knew his Arabic wasn't great but he knew he'd have to brush up on it after this because he could have sworn Damian was calling Red Hood his brother, and that couldn't be right.

But then they were hugging and speaking quickly and quietly in Arabic and Bruce could only pick out some of it.

_"...did you get here?"_

_"...would have come…"_

_"...you okay?"_

_"...missed you…"_

That shocked Bruce. Well, in all honesty, all of it shocked Bruce. He hadn't seen Damian be half as affectionate in all the time he'd known him, which admittedly wasn't all that long, but the point still stands.

He no longer thought Red Hood was a threat, at least not to Damian. The thought occurred to him that Talia had kept another child from him- after all, why would Damian call him brother? He brushed that thought away quickly. He hadn't known Talia very long before Damian was conceived, this man is surely too old. His confusion only grew though. He just wished he understood what was going on.

Red Hood looked up from where he was carefully examining Damian, leveling his stare on Bruce. He could feel the heat in it through the helmet, and felt the unspoken "you'd better not have hurt him".

He straightened up, although his attempt at intimidation was somewhat stifled by the arm slowly rubbing circles on Damian's back, Damian, who had firmly attached himself to his side and looked like he would not move from it for a very long time.

When Bruce took a step towards the two of them, Red Hood stiffened, and pulled Damian closer to his side. Damian looked at him, before looking back up to Red Hood.

_"La tuqaliq fala bas, 'iinah 'abi, 'iinah yaetani bi."_

Bruce froze at the words. _'Ab_. _Dad_. He looked at Damian, who quickly averted his eyes. He shortened the gap between them, wanting to comfort Damian.

He stopped mid-stride, remembering why they were on that rooftop to begin with, and turns to Red Hood.

"Who are you?" he asks simply, although he can hear the lingering distrust in his own voice.

The Red Hood doesn't answer, instead slowly reaching his hand up behind his head, causing Bruce to tense, before he hears a catch release.

When Red Hood pulls off his helmet, Bruce's brain short circuits. "Jason?" he whispers, scared if he speaks too loud, he'll suddenly jolt awake.

"Hey, B," Jason says to him, with unmistakable bitterness in his voice.

But it's Jason's voice, and he could tell Bruce all the reasons he failed him and Bruce would still want to hear it, because he's missed him, missed his son.

It was Jason's turn to tense when Bruce approached again, and his expression was the same as when he was new as Robin and made a mistake, looking like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

That wasn't to say Jason looked like he did back then. He was grown up now, even if a stubborn part of Bruce's mind couldn't stop thinking of him as he was as a kid. He felt the same about Dick and Cass, and he was sure he would about his other kids when they grow up, but Jason was different. Jason would forever be that cocky fifteen year old with the crooked smile that cared so much about helping people. It's different, he thinks idly, for Jason to be an adult (or even close to it) in his dreams. Even his subconscious wouldn't dare to imagine so much. Bruce wished he could have been there to see him grow up. That thought makes him wonder how Jason even did grow up, before he shuts that thought down. How typical of him to spoil a nice dream.

Jason flinches when he reaches his hand up to his face, but he doesn't pull away. This lacks the usual murky quality of his dreams. Jason's cheek felt solid beneath his gauntleted hand. He could see the beginnings of rain slowly flatten Jason's hair against his forehead, and the white streak was new. He could hear his own heart beating caustically in his ears.

It was the flinch, though, and what came after it, that told Bruce this was real.

Some nights, Jason is alive and happy. Bruce would walk into the kitchen to see Tim and Jason laughing about something. He'd walk past the games room where he'd hear noises of Dick and Jason playing video games. Jason would come home early from NYU, where he once told Bruce he wanted to study English, for one of Cass' ballets. He'd walk in on Jason and Damian fast asleep on the coach, netflix still playing on the tv, and pull a blanket up over them.

More often than not though, Jason is angry. Those nights he's a ghost. He tells Bruce all the reasons he failed him, shouts and screams about how terrible of a father he is. When Bruce wakes up from those dreams, he's screaming as well. He prefers those dreams, though. He knows he deserves them.

In any of his dreams, Jason is never like this, never so wary. He was confused, Bruce knew, after all these years he could still read his emotions. His anger dissipated, and his confusion was all that was left.

He smiled softly at Jason. He knew there would be work to do to fix this. He hadn't forgotten that Jason was the Red Hood, but he had time to figure out whatever led Jason to do what he did. He hadn't forgotten that Jason had died (he could never forget that for as long as he lived), but that all could wait. That wasn't what was important at the moment.

What mattered was Jason was back.

He looked down at Damian then, not having forgotten he was there, simply preoccupied with Jason. He thinks his preoccupation can be forgiven though. Damian was looking up at Jason with what Bruce can only imagine are wide eyes beneath the domino mask. Jason shifts his attention to Damian as well, and with the attention on him, Damian squirms.

"You never told me your name," Damian whispers, and he suddenly looks like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Bruce knows what he's thinking, knows that he never connected the brother he was told story after story about, the lanky teenager with the big smile in the photos hung up around the manor, with the brother who looked out for him in the League.

Bruce doesn't resist the urge then, to gather his two sons in his arms. He can tell they're going to be alright now. They'll put the work in.

**Author's Note:**

> theyre babies ur honour.
> 
> okay anyway hope u enjoyed peace out


End file.
